Merlin's Daughter
by Meg Dani
Summary: Love, loss, power gone wrong, and a child lost across time.
1. Chapter 1

A crouched man, covered by a dingy, heavy cloak, picked his way through the southern part of Camelot. He limped, his shoulders slumped in exhaustion, and leaned heavily on the staff in his right hand. The hour was late, he noticed glancing up, and the sun was already hidden behind the castle walls. Thin shadows lay like sheets over the village, weighing down the already small shops and making them seem even smaller.

Pausing near a street corner, the man sighed deeply, and rubbed a shaking hand over his dirty face. Though the shops were all closed, and the people gone home to their families, the city seemed unbearably loud. He could hear them-laughing, talking, fighting-some even prayed; they prayed for their men at war.

With a shuddering breath and a painful gulp, he swallowed hard. Would they continue their prayers if they knew, he wondered? Rolling his shoulders and adjusting his cloak, he continued down the street until he came to a small, ramshackle house built into the side of the castle wall. There he paused again, turning to look out over Camelot.

The year had begun with such promise, such hope, only to come to an earth shattering halt in a few short hours. He began to shake again, hurrying inside, and slamming the door behind him as though it would close out his thoughts. The staff clattered to the floor, and the cloak was carelessly discarded in a random direction. He could not breathe. He felt hot. With hurried steps, he went over to the basin, not bothering to light a fire or candles. For now, he wanted to be hidden and he welcomed the dark.

Leaning over the bowl, he took a deep breath and submerged his head in the icy water and stayed there, willing himself to forget the events of the last twenty-four hours. He remained, unmoving, holding his breath, his eyes clenched tightly shut, except something had suddenly moved at the table across the room. He cursed himself for letting his guard down.

"Merlin?" A soft voice spoke his name and Merlin straightened, spinning on the intruder in a flurry of water and curses. Water dripped from his face and hair, mingling with the dirt and grime of battle, and his arm stretched out toward the empty hearth while he took several steps toward the voice. Angry flames erupted in the fireplace, licking up the brick of the castle wall and illuminating the shack. His fury, however, melted away at the sight that met him. A young woman with flaming red hair, curls springing wildly in random directions stood cradling a tiny baby, cowering against the wall in horror.

"Merlin?" She whimpered, fearfully. The breath rushed out of Merlin as he realized what he had come so close to doing and he hurriedly crossed the space between them and gathered her up in his arms, being careful not to crush the baby between them.

"Mora! Mora! What are you doing here?" He took her face in his hands and placed tender kisses all over her cheeks and lips, frowning as he felt the tremors coursing through her small frame. Merlin forced his face to relax, tried to smile softly, but swallowed hard and hugged her again when he felt unmanly tears coming to his eyes.

Mora clung to him with one arm, the other arm keeping the baby safely to one side. "There were cries beyond the walls, cries coming from the easter forest..." Her eyes were wide with fright, and her voice shaking. Merlin sighed and gently stroked her hair, softly combing his fingers through her red curls and resting his chin atop her head. Mora had never been afraid of anything before he loved her. Her spirit had been as fiery as her hair. For a long time, Merlin said nothing, he merely held her, hating himself for the life he had so selfishly forced her into.

"You heard the Weepers. The Dark Ones lost their Heir today." He said at length. His voice sounded heavy and dull in his ears as he prepared himself to douse the glimmer of hope that he saw in Mora's eyes as she pulled away to look up at him. He had not yet spoken the words aloud, and now they were getting stuck in his throat.

"Arthur killed Mordrid." He said. Mora moved to speak, but Merlin shook his head quickly and placed his fingers to her lips. "Mordrid managed to land a blow to Arthur before he passed." The tears were coming, he could not stop them. Arthur had been like a son to him, not only that, Arthur had meant freedom for the babe his young love now held. "...The King is dead."

Mora drew back in alarm, "What does that mean for us?" Her voice was small, barely a whisper, and Merlin had to strain to hear her, bending his ear toward her lips to catch the words. He did not respond at first, merely touched a hand to the soft round head of the tiny baby girl in his lover's arms. Mora began to weep.

"I will not be able to conceal her presence any longer," he said softly, staring down at the babe. "Not with Arthur dead. There is no one to distract Morgana and her people from sensing her now." He sighed heavily, and his eyes met Mora's. "We'll have to get her somewhere safe…somewhere they will never be able to find her."

"I can take her back to France, I have a grandmother there, we can stay with her until things calm down!" Her face brightened with hope, but that quickly faded as she saw Merlin's face.

"They will find her, Mora…" His voice was thick with emotion. "I warned you of the dangers of bearing her. I warned you in the beginning…now she is here, we must do what we can to keep her safe and well."

"…No." Mora whimpered, shaking her head slowly in denial. "What would you have me to do? Would you rather I ended her life the moment I knew she was growing within me?" She demanded. "Merlin, she is our daughter! She is part of us!"

Merlin took Mora's face in his hands, "No! Of course not!" He exclaimed, but then he released her and began to pace."I never should have allowed this, any of it. I should have left you to your life, happy and ignorant of all this world…" He raked his hands through his silver hair, facing the fire as he steeled himself for what he would need to say. "I must send her away. Somewhere they will never be able to follow."

Mora panicked. "No! No, you can't! She needs me!" Mora laid the baby down on the bed and ran to stand before Merlin who closed his eyes tightly, fearing he would break and fail to do what he must if he looked at her. "Merlin, please!" Mora gripped his arms, desperately pleading with him to see reason. "We can do this! You are the most powerful wizard in England, maybe even the world! You don't have to do this!"

He had failed. The day had cost too much, too many lives, and now Merlin found himself forced to rip his family apart. Anger boiled in his gut, his failure and selfishness glaring back at him in his lover's tears. He knew this was a possible outcome the day he saw Mora for the first time, he had seen it, and he had been arrogant enough to believe he could change it. He believed Arthur to be the chosen one, that he would bring an era of peace never before seen by wizard and human alike. He believed Mordrid could be redeemed, and he believed Morgana could be stopped. …And he had grown careless in those beliefs. He was the Great Merlin! Leader of the Wizarding World! How could he fail? His pride. His pride would always be his downfall, and now he would be forced to watch the love of his life suffer the worst.

"If you wish her to live, we have no choice." He said. "I will prepare the horses, then we go to the Circle." Without another word, Merlin left Mora sobbing in the middle of the shack and went outside.

By the time they had reached the forest, night had fallen. Bare, knobby branches clicked and creaked together as the wind blew strongly through the trees. A small clearing had been furnished with dead limbs and branches from trees like a fence and herbs hung from the fence in protection of those within its confines. Seven torches decorated the edge of the circle, lighting the inside just enough for the couple to see each other. They hid spoke in hushed tones, hiding their faces in the hoods of their cloaks as though the trees had eyes to spy on them. Mora was nervous and upset, clinging to a bundle in her arms while the Merlin stood tall, his eyes bright and and alert as he watched the surrounding area.

"There must be another way." She said tearfully.

"Mora, if there were any other option, don't you think I would have found it?" He snapped, his silver eyes flashed in the moonlight. Mora sobbed softly, lowering her face to touch her red lips to the pink forehead of the baby wrapped possessively in her arms. "Lay her down, Mora." Merlin said softly, sadness glistening in his grey eyes.

Mora held the baby tighter and took a step away, looking horrified. "Merlin, no!" She cried. "You can't! Please! We'll run away, we'll take her somewhere they would never find us!"

Merlin sighed, his heart constricting with every tear his lover shed. He walked over and took her in his arms, kissing her passionately. "I'm so sorry, Mora."

He rested his forehead against hers, clenching his eyes shut, a single tear escaping as he lowered his head to leave a kiss of his own atop his baby daughter's head. Mora relaxed slightly, a glimmer of hope taking light in her heart until Merlin began to mutter strange words beside her ear. Mora began to sob again, struggling to free herself from his embrace, but Merlin held her tight, keeping her in place. The wind picked up, the trees creaked, and somewhere in the distance a wolf howled a long, mournful cry and seconds later, Mora screamed. Merlin finally released her and the woman stumbled back away from him, her eyes brimming with tears and her arms entirely empty of the precious bundle they held moments before.

"Bring her back!" She cried. "Merlin! Please, bring her back! She's just a baby! She needs me! Please…bring her back!" Tears came in floods and her words were closer to croaks as she fought to plead through her sobs.

Merlin looked at her, his face hollow and broken as he fought between relief and heartbreak. In one hand, his daughter was safe, in the other, he and Mora would never see their child again. Would Mora ever be able to forgive him? The look in her eyes threatened to destroy him. He raised a hand, reaching for her, but Mora shrank away from him. Merlin felt as though ice water had been poured over him, was she afraid of him? His words failed him.

"I'm so sorry, Mora." He managed. Mora's demeanor changed in an instant, her face devastated just a moment before, suddenly fierce and full of hate.

"I trusted you!" She raced to him, rearing back her hand and driving it across his face with all her strength. "I trusted you!" Her small fists beat against Merlin's chest relentlessly, and Merlin, face still stinging, grabbed her wrists and pulled her close against him. He had deserved every blow. "You promised…" Mora sobbed into his chest. "You promised we would be safe…"

"I'm so sorry…"


	2. Chapter 2

It was nearly midnight by the time Merlin returned Mora to Camelot and her small home in the eastern side of town. She said nothing as she dismounted and gave Merlin the reins to her horse and he tied them to his saddle. She hugged her cloak tightly around her and glanced up and down the street on either side of her. Merlin moved to dismount and join her, he did not want to leave her alone, but Mora threw up a hand,

"No." She said sternly. "You do not enter my home. Not now. Not after this." Her voice trembled, and Merlin's face dropped along with his heart. A painful knot formed in his throat, trapping his voice and keeping his words from coming. He merely nodded once and made himself more comfortable in the saddle. Mora never looked him in the eye, she never looked further than the shoulder of his horse until she was satisfied he would not follow her and then turned and walked numbly into her house, slamming the door behind her.

Merlin stared at the little clay hut, willing her to come back, knowing she would not. He looked up at the sky and studied the stars for a long moment, his heart heavy in his chest. Finally, the wizard turned his horse south, heading back toward his shack. Once there, he took his time unsaddling the horses, in no hurry to spend the night alone. He could not force the memory of Mora's sobbing face from his mind, or the look of utter devastated betrayal once their baby had vanished from her arms. A dark scowl etched its way through his brows and mouth at the thought.

Merlin felt cruel. What had he been thinking when he pursued her? He was over one eighty years old and he had no business stepping into her world. She was barely twenty when he first saw her and he still remembered that day as if it were yesterday. Mora stood at the booth her family owned in the market, her flaming red hair blowing in the springtime breeze as she called out to the people milling about, trying to advertise the produce her family sold. He had been taken in by her bright green eyes and warm rosy cheeks, her dazzling smile. Gawain was with him that day as they walked toward Merlin's home, and the young knight had nudged Merlin in mid-step, noticing how he stared at the girl.

"Merlin! Can it be?" Gawain had jested, "Has the untouchable Merlin actually noticed a woman?" Merlin glared at the knight, his grey eyes flashing in the noon-day sun. No one believed Merlin to be the age he claimed, though his hair was silver, everything else about him appeared to be in his early thirties at best. The wonder of magic was that time passed differently for those born into it.

…Wonder. Merlin broke out of his reverie and rubbed a hand over his tired face. The wonder of magic was that it could be more of a curse. He always knew there would be nothing to resemble what mortals considered a normal life. Not for him. He had immense power, even for someone of his kind, and he knew that if these poor, dull people were to have the norm he so desired, Merlin would need to carry more responsibility than they would ever know. Peace hung by a thin and ancient thread, pulled tight by the fates as a line between light and dark while war threatened to break out at any moment. And now things were even more dire with both Heirs dead.

These mortals…they knew nothing. Every day they came closer and closer to death and they remained painfully oblivious. With a bitter grunt, Merlin hefted the saddle of the last horse, laid it over the paddock fence and stormed his way toward his house. He needed to prepare for the morning when the knights would return to Camelot. For all the turmoil of this day, there was still more to come. The people still had to be alerted to the death of their King and decide who would be the next to rule and the thought made Merlin feel suddenly very old. Once inside, Merlin again ignored the fireless hearth, the cold chill coming from the castle wall and threw himself down upon his bed. For the first time that day he gave his body permission to relax, rubbing his hands roughly over his face and eyes and tried to replay the events of the day in his mind. Try as he might, he could not think passed the image of Mora and their daughter from thoughts.

Had he done the right thing? Or had he acted too rashly? Not even twelve hours had passed since the fall of Arthur and Mordrid, had there been a chance of keeping his daughter here? Of shielding Mora from the trauma of having her child ripped from her arms? Was the child even safe? Mora's face haunted him, pale and tear streaked and Merlin wanted nothing more than to gouge out his eyes and erase the sight. Eighty years of life and the wizard found himself feeling more lost than he did the day he was given to the apothecary as an apprentice. The adrenaline was wearing off, he could feel his limbs trembling with exhaustion and emotion as the events of the day all came rushing back at once. Arthur and Mordrid laying tangled in a battle torn heap together, Lancelot and Gawain slain not far from them, so many had been lost that day and it all ended with the final act of his family destroyed by his own hand.

Merlin had made it his creed to stay out of the life of a woman, to keep himself set apart and dedicated to the better future of Camelot. He had determined he would not complicate the life of another, or perhaps it had been to protect himself from this? Perhaps he knew that he would ruin anyone that depended on him. What had been the outcome of Arthur and ultimately Camelot? For his many long years, Merlin had loved no one. He had given Camelot his full attention. But this mortal girl…his Mora, had laid siege to his heart and taken no prisoners. For two years they had shared a happiness Merlin never thought possible, a love to rival any other. Now the love of his life thought him a monster and his child, his only child was gone from their lives forever. He thought the heartache would drive him mad, and in his pain, did the only thing he could. Merlin began to whisper soft words into the air, a spell making the room feel heavy and soon began to feel its effects as his eyes grew heavy and his mind slowly relaxed. He needed to sleep, to escape, and morning would come too soon.

Sunlight filtered in through the windows near the ceiling of the castle. The rays streamed down, illuminating the round table and the creed inscribed there, just as Arthur had designed. Merlin sat in his chair, his posture slouched and one elbow resting on the arm, his face unshaven and leaning against his fingers as he waited for the knights to arrive. Many chairs would remain empty today, many good men would remain forever asleep and Merlin found himself battling between the pain and a cold numbness growing deep within his heart. Part of him wished to allow that numbness to consume him, but the leader in him, the wizard in him knew that was impossible. Too many depended on him, regardless of how little he believed in himself right now.4 Nearly a century old and he was choosing now to have an identity crisis.

The doors across the hall opened, the sound of boots echoing across the chamber as the knights filed in one by one, all stiff and tired from the battle of the day before. They slowly made their way to the round table and joined Merlin by taking their seats. For a long time, no one spoke, they all merely stared at the engraved surface, some of them looking as if they believed reading and believing hard enough would rewrite the last twenty-four hours in history and bring Arthur back. Merlin saw the same devastated shock in their eyes that had been in Mora's the night before and anger rose up within him. They had grown confident-too confident, and their first failure had to be their greatest.

"Enough!" His voice rang out through the hall, echoing to the ceiling and back again. He straightened in his seat and slammed a fist down on the table top, causing all the knights to straighten in their chairs and return to the disciplined demeanor they were trained to carry. "We all knew this would be a possible outcome to our quest. We may have failed, but that does not mean we are doomed to remain failures." He stood and slammed his palms down upon the table.

"Arthur and Mordrid may be dead, but don't you dare assume this war is over!" His grey eyes met each of theirs in turn, piercing their gazes Morganna will intensify her cause ten fold now that Camelot is without a King! Galahad-" He turned and faced the eldest of the knights. "See to it that the defenses are doubled throughout the city, have them prepared for anything, and double the watch at night." Galahad nodded, a solemn expression on his face as always as he rose to follow orders. "Aglavaile, Aglavain?" They beat a fist to their chests. "See to it that weapons are distributed to any and every able bodied man and boy throughout the city. And Sir Ka-" Merlin's stopped abruptly and straightened to his full height, looking up at one of the windows.

A black bird perched high above their heads and Merlin's face darkened. "Morganna…" He said quietly. The bird's head, staring down at the men around the table. The knights looked puzzled, their faces full of worry as they looked back at Merlin. Some whispered piteous ideas of him going mad with grief. Merlin threw his chair to the side, clearing the area around him for more space. "Morganna!" He shouted again.

The bird ruffled its feathers and spread its wings, gliding gracefully down to eye level with the silver-haired wizard. It flapped its wings in a flurry of feathers and black smoke came from the wind the wings created. In no time, a large cloud of black mist had completely hidden the bird from sight. Merlin watched silently, his eyes never leaving the creature and then threw out his hands, waving them apart and commanding the smoke to clear. Morganna stood where the bird had been, her long black hair and dark brown eyes shining in the sunlight beating down upon them through the windows. She looked furious and tired, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"My son…" She said, clenching her teeth. "…Is dead."

A muscle tightened in Merlin's jaw. "As is my King." His eyes were cold.

The knights made no move to speak, for all their courage, they knew who stood before them, and they knew the power the two sorcerers possessed. There would be nothing the men could do but wait.

"It is your fault!" Morganna screeched. "You betrayed your people, betrayed your blood! And for what? These pitiful mortals?" Energy seemed to crack and snap in the air around the witch. Every muscle in her body was tense, like a cat ready to pounce. "Mordrid could have brought us into a new age! An age where we are not forced to defer to these weaklings!" Merlin stepped away from the round table, closer to Morganna.

"What you want is chaos, witch! I have betrayed no one, least of all our kind." He never raised his voice, but kept it low and steady, the only sign of anger was in the way his eyes never blinked as he glared back at her.

Morganna paced from side to side, keeping herself squared off with Merlin. She lifted her eyes, sniffling through a stuffy nose as a sardonic sneer tugged at one corner of her mouth. "I heard a rumor today, Merlin…" He eyed her, unmoving. She waved her hands out before her chest in a graceful display, an image of Mora's face appeared between them, smiling, happy. Merlin ignored it. "I heard…you took a lover." He made no move to react, but his eyes narrowed just enough to give Morganna the encouragement she sought. "…A mortal…human."

Merlin could hear the knights whispering amongst themselves behind him, he forced his temper down and responded almost lazily, "We are all human, Morganna. Our kind are not so very different from the rest." She hissed at him, but soldiered on, determined to prick him.

"I heard more…I heard you fathered a little bastard." A muscle jerked in his jaw, he tired of her games, yet Morganna cackled. "So it's true?" She screeched. "You dishonor yourself, Merlin…one such as you, with your raw power…" She took several steps closer, her voice barely above a whisper. Merlin remained still, his arms tense and ready at his sides. "You who could have the world at your feet…have made yourself a servant of rodents. You will be the destruction of our people…of yourself…and whoever you touch will perish…" Merlin knew she was taunting him, but could there be any truth to what she said? No matter the answer, the witch's words struck too close to the heart this day, and Merlin's temper flared.

"You, you are the one that insists upon this bloody war!" He roared, he straightened, his posture going rigid with rage as he took two hulking steps toward her, crossing the remaining distance between them. His face was inches from hers and Merlin had the satisfaction of seeing her flinch. "Where are the ones you love, Morganna?" He asked quietly for only the witch to hear. He felt rage like he never had felt before, cold, bitter. Nothing would have pleased him more in that moment than to simply crush her where she stood-and he had the power. "They lay dead on the battle field in the river of blood you caused. You alone, Morganna, not I." He could see her mind working, trying to fight back, but Merlin knew she would not dare attack him, not now.

"If not for your mad obsession with power and enslaving the mortals, perhaps your son would still be alive! But no. You were determined to turn him into the ruler you could never be, into the weapon you always wanted." A cruel smile twisted over his face. "Arthur didn't kill Mordrid yestermorn," he stepped back, his anger cooling, "Your son died by your own hand." He had pushed too far, but he did not care.

Morganna let out an inhuman wail and raised an arm, reaching into the folds of her gown to retrieve an oddly shaped stick about the length of her forearm and as thin as her smallest finger. She aimed it at Merlin, bright purple color flashed from the tip as she continued to scream. Merlin raised his right hand where a large silver ring decorated his index finger. An iridescent shield formed between him and the attack that came sailing toward him.

"Let it go, Morganna." He said above the noise of Morganna's screams and the knights rising and drawing their weapons. "You cannot best me in a fight, not directly, and not when you're this upset."

The woman glared at him, her eyes crazed in grief and fury. They stood facing each other, Morganna breathing heavily, Merlin looking back as though daring her to attack again, as though he wanted nothing more than to blast her into millions of pieces. But the opportunity never came. Morganna suddenly gathered her emotions and returned to the regal, and powerful air of the witch she was.

"You're right, of course." She admitted, returning the wand to the folds of her gown. "I may be unable to defeat you, but I can certainly distract you." A sickening smile spread across her pale lips and Merlin felt cold wash over him as he turned his face to the castle windows. He realized now, he could smell it. Smoke was rising in the east and screams were finding their way into the great hall. Merlin heard the knights, swords screeching from their scabbards as they all ran to gather the troops.

Looking back at Morganna, Merlin could not hide the defeat in his eyes. "What have you done?"

"Oh, Merlin, Merlin…" She sang. "Did I not tell you all those years ago? Did I not tell you I always get my way?"


End file.
